


Sign Here

by DoctorTrekLock



Series: Resolution19 [39]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, Insecure Phil Coulson, M/M, Reassuring Clint Barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-16 21:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20609924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/pseuds/DoctorTrekLock
Summary: "Oi!" Clint yelled from his spot half-standing on a table, his hands cupped around his mouth for volume. "Show of hands, how many of you will attest that Senior Agent Phillip Coulson is sexy as hell?"Within a minute, over two-thirds of the SHIELD cafeteria had a hand in the air.





	Sign Here

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Overcoming Static](https://archiveofourown.org/works/726581) by [msraven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msraven/pseuds/msraven). 

> Prompt: "It would take me less than an hour to get at least several hundred signatures of people who think you’re sexy as hell."  
Source: "Overcoming Static" by msraven
> 
> Originally posted September 11, 2019 on [Tumblr](https://doctortreklock.tumblr.com/post/187657128082/sign-here-september-11-2019)
> 
> A/N: If you're thinking this sounds a bit like that fic that spawned ["The Breakfast Club"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20036992), you would be right.

Clint had never imagined dating Phil Coulson would be like this. Yeah, Coulson had been one of his best friends for the better part of a decade, and yes, he'd been in love with him for the better part of that, but even when he'd allowed himself to daydream about the mythical day when he _might_ date Phil Coulson...it had never looked like this.

Phil slid neatly into the Avengers' communal kitchen one Tuesday morning, already crisp and put together and looking nothing like the sleep-ruffled man who had reluctantly peeled himself out of Clint's arms two hours earlier.

"Good morning," he greeted everyone, a thin stack of folders in his hands. "After your last collective attempt at destroying the Port of New York, the powers that be have determined that a little positive PR is in order." Groans from the whole room met his pronouncement. Phil ignored them.

"Stark, Rogers, you get the late-night circuit. Romanov, _Vogue_ called, they'd like a six-page spread on women who save the world. Banner, I have a list of primary, secondary, and post-secondary schools that would like a moment of your time. Thor, _People_ wants to talk, especially about Jane. Barton--" Phil turned to him last of all, a small smile lurking around his mouth "--_TradArchers' World_ would like to talk with you about improvised archery equipment."

"Yes!" Clint's hiss of joy was drowned out by a sea of "C'mon, seriously, Agent? Why does he get the cushy spots?" and "If they ask me about my hair, I will stab someone" and "I look forward to the days I may spend telling the tales of my Lady Jane" and "Whatever you need, sir" and "If they're sure they want me, I'd love to see them."

Phil, naturally, gave no reaction to any of their comments, save his typical bland smile. Clint had noticed that his smiles reached his eyes much more often since he'd started working the Avengers and even more often now that he and Clint were together.

"I have a packet of information for each of your detailing each scheduled appearance," Phil told them. Stark was the first one to break, clutching his coffee thermos tightly and muttering something about oxidation as he tore the packet from Phil's fingers with a scowl. Steve was professional enough to cover up his disappointment with his lot in life when he took his packet, and Thor and Bruce were positively jovial about their assignments.

Natasha waited in front of Phil for a moment before taking the packet he extended to her. Clint wasn't in the right spot to actually _see_ the conversation happening, but he knew the pair were exchanging a silent communication, probably about the level of lethality Nat was authorized for if make-up tips were mentioned.

Once Nat vanished without a trace, the room was empty of nosy neighbors and Clint was free to give Phil the very enthusiastic good morning he'd missed earlier.

"Did you seriously get me an interview with _TradArcher_?" Clint's excitement bubbled over as soon as they separated.

The thin smile lines around Phil's eyes crinkled deeper at his partner's enthusiasm. "It didn't take much. I barely had to mention your name before they were tripping over themselves with interview dates. Speaking of which," Phil trailed off, holding the last packet of papers higher. "This is for you."

"Thanks, babe," Clint said. "But can I pick that up later? I was going to go shooting with Kris this morning."

As quickly as they had appeared, the crinkles on the edges of Phil's eyes disappeared. "That'll be fine," he said. Agent Coulson wouldn't do anything as obvious as hold the papers up as a shield, but Clint could see Phil's fingers tighten on the folder.

Before Clint could say anything, Phil dropped a kiss on the corner of his mouth before slipping away and heading for the door. "I'll have these ready for you whenever you'd like to stop by." Then he was gone.

Clint spent a solid two minutes staring at where Phil had disappeared, trying to figure out what he'd said wrong. Then he belatedly remembered the morning they’d first gotten together, after one of Tony's parties where Phil had drunk himself almost under the table in defense of Clint’s sobriety. Phil had confessed his deep-seated insecurities, particularly where his age or the younger sniper Kris Henderson were concerned. They'd been working on it, but those sorts of anxieties didn't disappear overnight.

Clint also remembered his own response to Phil’s confession and abruptly changed his schedule for the day. He had something much more important to do than shoot targets with Kris or pick up a PR packet.

\--

"Oi!" Clint yelled from his spot half-standing on a table, his hands cupped around his mouth for volume.

The SHIELD cafeteria fell silent. He could see agents glance at each other across tables and eye the exits. It was never a good thing when a Level 7 agent needed your attention. Hill and Sitwell were eyeing him suspiciously from their corner of the room.

Beside him, still sitting in his seat, Kris groaned softly and stuck his face in his hands. "I can't believe you're actually--"

"Show of hands," Clint shouted. "How many of you will attest that Senior Agent Phillip Coulson is sexy as hell?"

For a long moment, no one moved. Hill had gone back to her sandwich and Sitwell's shoulders were shaking with laughter. Slowly, Junior Agent Velazquez raised her hand.

Clint grinned.

A moment later, two other women raised their hands, then a couple guys from ops. Within a minute, over two-thirds of the cafeteria had a hand in the air.

"I think I'm going to need your help with this, Kris."

\--

Phil buried his face in his hands, but Clint could still see the tips of his ears, which were bright red.

Clint's smile was fading now into concern. "Babe?" he questioned. "You okay?" Clint tentatively placed a hand on Phil's arm. This wasn't how he'd thought the two of them would end the day.

He'd thought that Phil would like the half-dozen sheets of paper he'd brought with hundreds of signatures on them. He'd thought the two of them could curl up together in bed and laugh at some of the comments left by the more intrepid agents. He'd hoped the list would be meaningful to Phil.

He hadn't anticipated Phil's complete and abject mortification, though.

"I'm sorry, Phil," Clint said miserably, rubbing his thumb reassuringly along Phil's arm. In hindsight, it was obvious. Phil was the kind of person who very strongly valued his privacy. The pages now scattered on the bedspread around them served as glaring reminders of his oversight.

Phil took a deep breath and lowered his hands to his knees. His face was still flushed, but the tell-tale scarlet was leaving his ears. "I can't believe you did that," he said softly.

"I know," Clint said, dropping his eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-- I'm sorry."

"No, no," Phil said quickly, grabbing one of Clint's hands and holding it tightly. "You misunderstand me, Clint. I'm sorry I made you feel like you had to do this. That wasn't my intent this morning. I just--" Phil's mouth twisted in self-deprecation.

Clint broke in before he could finish. "I wanted to." Phil's expression softened and Clint continued, the words bubbling out of him. "You're amazing, Phil. You're the most amazing person I know. You're smart and funny and kind and the best man I've ever met. You're also smoking hot," he added frankly. "And I work with a lot of very attractive people."

Clint had enough material to keep going all night, but Phil cut him off with a kiss before he could get that far.

"Thank you," Phil said quietly, the two of them still close together, breathing the same air.

"Anytime," Clint said breezily. "But Phil?" Phil hummed in acknowledgement. "Just because you've got this list of names now," Clint warned, a smile creeping into his voice. "Don't take that as permission. You're mine."

Phil laughed. "Yours," he confirmed with a smile.


End file.
